


The One With The First Kiss

by Elizabeth1985



Series: Cockles [10]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Cockles, Cute, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, flustered!Jensen, head boop, jibcon, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 11:04:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6801127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizabeth1985/pseuds/Elizabeth1985
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few years ago, a very nervous Jensen embarked on the crazy train that is Misha and never looked back. It began like this...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With The First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch/gifts).



> This fic is a gift to [procasdeanating](https://procasdeanating.tumblr.com/) for helping me choose my new tumblr url. The prompt was: _Hey, first of all: thank you for doing this! In celebration of your new url, I'd love me a fluffy little cockles fic, first kiss maybe? It's got to have a super cute head boop in it of course._
> 
> And yes, I used the Friends style of episode titles for the title of this fic cause I've been on a friends watching binge.

 

Jensen could hardly hear the conversation over the sound and distraction of his own pounding heartbeat. It had quickened his breath and caused a faint sweat to break out across his skin.

The booze hadn’t helped. And yet, here he was, still raising his glass to swallow more wine as a necessary distraction to his inner turmoil.

Pretty soon, Jared, or one of the others around the table, would notice how off he was. Jensen merely hoped he could lie through his teeth. It wouldn’t be the first time. Not all of them would be fooled, however. In that moment, his eyes shifted to the right, taking an indirect glance at the man beside him.

Jensen’s single thought was: _Fuck._ Both as an expletive in panic, and as a suggested activity by his traitorous brain.

As the night wore on, and a low-key buzz ramped up into full on tipsy, with a side of borderline drunk, the tension in the air between him and the person who he was not permitted to think about, seemed to amplify. The sensation of electricity nearly raising the hair on his arms.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, he told himself. _You’re a damn adult man—not to mention a fucking newlywed at that!_

Wait a minute— _That’s_ the solution, he realized. Danneel! Fucking of course! Why hadn’t he thought of her before? She always had the answers and she was his best friend and never held back on her opinions before, she certainly wouldn’t now.

“I’ll be right back,” Jensen hastily told the table of fellow co-workers before popping up out of the stiff chair and winding his way through the bistro-style restaurant and out on to the cobblestone narrow streets of Rome.

He wasn’t clear-headed enough to calculate the time difference, but he placed the call regardless. It rang four times before she answered and he bounced on his feet the entire time. It wasn’t cold or anything, he was just wired and semi-panicking.

“You don’t normally call now, what’s going on?”

Well, she sounded awake, so that was a plus.

“I don’t know what to do,” he led the convo right into dangerous territory. “Shit’s not making sense anymore.”

There was a long pause before, “Are you drunk?”

He shrugged, not that she could see him. “Um. I’m not _not_ drunk.”

“Riiight. Okay, so break it down for me, hun. What’s going on?” He heard the concern in her voice, and also a slight iota of impatience.

Jensen inhaled deep in a poor attempt to prepare himself. “Member that thing I told you like a month ago?”

“Well, Christ, you’re gonna have to be more specific than that, Jensen.”

Aggravated, he sighed. “The thing, you know, about a certain someone… inappropriate feelings. Remember?”

There was a breeze on the air, but a droplet of sweat skimmed down the back of his neck.

“Oh!” she realized. “About Misha!? Yeah what about it?”

Why’d she have to be so nonchalant about the whole thing? It baffled him. He’d gone and told his brand new wife he had monster crush on a coworker. Oh, and yeah, said coworker being a man, and... _Didn’t I mention_ , _sweetheart?_ _I think he likes me too!_ Christ, he might as well have walked through the door and been all, “Hi honey! I’m thirteen and fucked up!”

“There’s just... “ he paused and shook his head, a few passersby gave him odd looks. “We’re at a bar,” he started, hearing her go ‘ _ahh’_ on the other end, “and it’s like… you know in grade school when the teacher rolls in the TV cart and it’s a movie day and the girl you like is sitting beside you and then the teacher shuts the lights off and it’s like BAM instant electro-charge whatever and you feel like you’re gonna explode from the inside?”

She was laughing. Jensen scowled, even though he loved hearing her light bubbly giggle. “Well you don’t have to laugh at me!” he called out, voice rising.

“I’m sorry!” chuckled Danneel. “Really, I am, hun. But we’ve been over this, and I already know how you feel, and I know what you’re hoping for and that’s okay. We had a three hour conversation about this, Jensen. This thing between you and him, it’s exceptional and unique and I’m okay with you figuring it out and following things through. I know I come first for you and that’s all that matters. You are and have always been my best friend, and so long as you promise me that you won’t suddenly decide he’s the _only_ thing you want, I support this.”

“—But”

“No! Would you _just_ stop _worrying!_ Jesus… I know you have a hard time letting go, and relaxing, and letting the world unfold around you but sometimes life doesn't have to be so fucking serious.”

What in the world had he done to deserve a wife like that. “I’ll never be good enough for you,” he stated, shaking his head at the ground. But steadily, as her encouragement poured through him, the thought of where this night could go was spreading across his mind like wildfire.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Hang up this phone and go have fun. And for godsakes, call me in the morning with the details!”

He laughed. “I fucking love you.”

“I love you too, Jensen… now go get your freak on sweetheart.”

The phone went dead and he stared in awe at the space in front of him. Okay, so that helped, but now he had to back in the bar--with permission. Bare-faced at that.

It took him a few minutes to muster the courage, but he found himself crossing the patio and pushing the door in. The murmur of conversations from around the restaurant rushed at him, clouding in on his thoughts.

The distraction came when he spotted their group suddenly weeding through the tables towards the front door, where he stood in the clutches of a high-caliber freak out.

Jared approached first. “Hey, where’d ya go?”

“Ah, had to call the wife. Um, what’s going on? You guys leavin’?”

His best friend nodded. “Yeah, it’s definitely time to head back. We’re all kinda wasted and we’ve got an early start.” Jared must’ve noticed something in his expression, because he gave Jensen a pointed look and asked, “You staying or going?”

The funny thing was, Jensen hadn’t told Jared about his inappropriate crush. But it didn’t matter, somehow, someway, Jared knew. “Staying… I think. You know.”

“Alright,” Jared said, sporting a sly smile. The tall frame of his friend slipped around him towards the door. The others, absorbed in conversation, stumbled past without even noticing him.

Misha was last in line. Oddly, the normally exuberant man was watching his feet instead of where he was going. It struck Jensen that Misha seemed upset over something. When he came within arms reach, Jensen stuck his arm out and let his palm bring the guy to a stop, laying flat against Misha’s toned chest.

Startled, Misha snapped his head up, eyes widening in surprise, and said, “I thought you left!” If Jensen wasn’t kidding himself, it seemed as though Misha was relieved to find the opposite true.

“Nah, just called Danneel. Had to, uh, ask her about some stuff.” What an understatement.

It was awkward then, because all the others had exited the restaurant and the two of them stood near the entrance, blocking a few patrons trying to make their way out. They were suddenly those annoying motherfuckers who stop in doorways, too absorbed in their own interaction to realize what douches they’re being.

Jensen acted fast. “Yeah so look, I’m not up for heading back right now, you, uh, mind walking around with me for a bit?” Good God, his voice sounded so tight and rushed.

There was definitely an interesting thought that played across Misha’s expression, but it vanished before Jensen could figure out. “Sure.”

By the time they were out on the street, the others were nowhere in sight. Jensen steered them towards a narrow alley a few feet ahead, scooters parked in hordes all along the building walls. He had a vague idea of the part of Rome they were in, and was pretty sure that if they went in this direction they’d eventually get to the Pantheon.

Or they’d get lost. Which, honestly, might not be a terrible idea. 

The teeming atmosphere from before was there in spades. They kept walking a hair too close and accidentally bumping shoulders. The alcohol might’ve been partly to blame for their meandering gait.

“Jensen?”

He looked over, met by a stunning set of blue eyes that were already focused intently on him. A barely audible, “ _Hmm?_ ” was all he could manage.

“Is something going on?”

He was tempted to hit back with, “ _Isn’t it?”_ But this wasn’t a joke, or some stupid spark of spontaneity on his part. It was, or so he thought anyway, something potentially real. The reason for his hesitation was because of one bracing truth.

...Months ago, Misha told Jensen more about his past, about the whole threesome thing to be exact. It was a relationship Misha and his wife had _shared_. Whatever was going on here, wasn’t something to be shared. Meaning, his worry could be for nothing.

All at once, Misha halted and grabbed his elbow to nudge him so they were facing each other. Dammit… it was now or never. If this went sideways, their friendship would be seriously fucked. But he had to know.

“I’m not crazy, right?” Jensen met Misha’s steady gaze and held it, throwing out as serious of a look as he could manage with a bottle of wine in his system.

The other man’s features softened with understanding. “No.”

Relief, and a whole new level of panic, stirred in him. A lingering stare unfolded with both of them at a loss for words, but neither quite ready to break the spell of the revelating admission. As the gaze fell past that nebulous line of requiring action, becoming unbearably intense, Jensen broke the silence, “What now?”

Anticipation for something he dared not hope for made him lick his lips and swallow the lingering saliva in his mouth, his body getting ready. Just in case.

Misha, casually and simultaneously sexy as all fucking hell, slipped his hands into his pockets and took a step forward.

If Jensen’s brain were the Enterprise, the red alert alarm would be sounding loudly. As it was, he backed up—an impulse. Misha wasn’t dismayed by it, continuing to walk towards him. It stunned Jensen how entirely certain Misha looked, how sure he seemed all this was okay, how casually he accepted something that Jensen was having a fucking life crisis over.

His back hit a brick wall and the air rushed out of his lungs.

Things were moving _waaaay_ too fast, but he wasn’t in any capacity to stop it. Misha came up to him, moving right into the realm of his personal space, just a slim two inches between them. It was like he couldn’t breathe or breathed too fast. Misha’s eyes fixated on him, flashing with unyielding determination.

When Misha spoke, Jensen realized how close they actually were as he felt warm breath puff across his lips. “You can back out,” Misha offered. “You can tell me this isn’t what you want and we’ll both walk away and never think about it again. Your choice.”

Unconsciously, Jensen licked his lips and swallowed a second time. The pull in him, to dive forward and take what he’d been dreaming and fantasizing about for fucking months, was too overwhelming. Any rational reason for _not_ doing this was buried under too much curiosity.

He wasn't sure what to say, what indicator would imply his giving in.

“ _Mish…”_ And that was it.

Before he could register anything more, Misha was closing in. In the second their lips brushed together, Misha’s hand came to rest against his cheek, broad and warm—sending a buzz rippling down his spine. It was an odd sort of reassurance to him and his eyes fell shut to take everything in.

Inhaling sharply through his nose, his chest expanded and he felt Misha’s lean frame press against him, a thigh nudged between his legs, and god help him, his mouth fell open and his tongue eased into the slick warmth of Misha’s mouth.

The instant Misha’s tongue stroked back, a fire lit off in the pit of his stomach and he threw his arms around Misha’s neck and angled his head for more. Jensen didn’t realize how immersed he was until he felt his fingers braiding through Misha’s disheveled silky-soft hair.

Short, hesitant moans joined the ragged attempts at breathing, and before he knew it, they were rocking their hips together and his back was uncomfortably pinned to the coarse brick behind him.

When his brain kicked back into gear, and his lungs started to scream for a full load of oxygen, he snapped and pushed Misha back—but not away. His hands rested on Misha’s firm shoulders, keeping the guy at a safe distance, but not dare letting him out of his grasp.

They both panted, trying in vain not to look at each other. Either out of embarrassment or concern they’d get right back into it—who knew?

Out of the sheer awkwardness, Misha began to laugh—softly at first, and then letting it wrack his whole body. The tension in Jensen’s arms waned, and Misha ducked in to hug him. A smile broke across Jensen’s face, his emotions calming; a glaring relief from the earlier anxiety.

When they both settled from the moment’s delirium and total disbelief of the night’s events, Misha eased back and looked in his eyes, a faint smile still curving his mouth.

“Hmm, well, that was something…”

Jensen grinned back. “I’d say.”

Caught up in an exhilarating high of some strange notion of possibility and wonder, Jensen cradled Misha’s face and slowly guided them together. Chin tucked down, eyes set on one another, Jensen brought his forehead to rest against Misha’s and took a solid calming inhale.

A nervous laugh escaped his friend, and Misha confessed, “Man, and I thought working with you _before_ was difficult. I’m _so_ fucked.”

Weak-kneed and giddy, though he’d never admit it, Jensen bit his lip to hold back the megawatt smile threatening to explode into his expression. There was no way he was ruining this by looking like a dopey idiot.

“Makes two of us,” he added. Sobering up, he stroked his thumbs across the rise of Misha’s cheeks and said, “We _should_ head back.”

“Absolutely,” agreed Mish, biting his bottom lip. Damn, what a coy little fuck.

They angled towards each other, a tease of almost kisses, a brush of their lower bodies… everything on the edge of _almost_. The first kiss had been an invitation to something more, but the second kiss would seal the deal.

Having had enough of flirtatious posturing, Jensen reached back and palmed the back of Misha’s head and yanked him forward, sealing a kiss over his mouth with indisputable zeal.

They would be so late getting back. Tomorrow he’d be a frigging zombie. But in that moment, any amount of exhaustion was worth having this.

...

On the flight home two days later, Jensen reminisced over the various catalysts that led to such a strange and interesting new development in his life.

In the end, he pinned the whole thing on Rome. Some magical combo of cobble-stone streets, wine, and shadowy corners.

With a smirk, he turned in his seat to face Mish, who was half asleep next to him. “You know this all Rome’s fault.”

Misha smiled, his eyes remaining closed. “Yes, Jensen, an entire city is to blame for our deplorable behaviour,” he teased.

“So deplorable.” Jensen grinned, taking the moment to study Misha’s profile when he wasn’t looking.

“And the shenanigans have only just begun,” Misha insinuated, letting his head loll over to his shoulder, eyes opening to throw Jensen an impish look.

“Should I be worried” he asked.

Smoothly, Mish replied, “Oh yes.”

Two can play that game. “Bring it on, Dmitri.” 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I nearly choked on fluff when I wrote the head boop part, I could imagine Jensen just bursting with giddyness. Hope you guys enjoyed this little bit... More cockles on the way! (and by on the way, I mean in the relatively near future... kinda) XD


End file.
